It's been a big year.
Big as far as emotional, mental, psychological and philosophical change go, anyway. In other ways it has been quite unremarkable. Lots of work, lots of toddler play, lots of family time, lots of complaining about being too busy, lots of questioning... everything, lots of planning, lots of attempts to remain grounded and calm and lots of feeling every possible emotion as is my general empath outlook on life. Losing Grandma was without a doubt the hardest thing about this year, and trying to get used to the knowledge that she's not here is something I will continue to struggle with, which I'll go into more detail about soon.
There are a few main topics that come to mind when I think about the year in its entirety, so I'm going to have some headings with my thoughts underneath. A somewhat structured approach to my general rambling writing style can't hurt, surely? Haha.
PSYCHOLOGICAL:
I started seeing a new psychologist at the beginning of this year, and by far, she is the best one I've ever had. I have been seeing therapists on and off for ten years, and while they have all been good in their own way, I have finally found someone who I really click with. Who helps me be kinder to myself while also not letting me get away with my own toxic traits, and gently helping me to improve them. I don't like to imagine where I would be mentally, if I hadn't had her support this year. The trauma of Isaac's birth/our subsequent hospital experience is something that we are working on at the minute, and I have a session booked for EMDR Therapy next month, which I am hoping will help me to move forward, because it is absolutely holding me back and one of my biggest goals for the future is to be able to let that part of my experience go. If only it was that easy. I know it is going to be a really difficult experience to go through, but one that I hope will help me be able to hopefully at least go near the hospital where I had Isaac without having a panic attack.
I also saw a psychiatrist again this year, due to changes I was trying to make with my medication. That was a fairly horrible time, trying to reduce my Effexor dosage for the sake of my blood pressure was a really yuck situation, to put it eloquently. I don't know how I kept working and doing everything, when I honestly felt so awful. At the end of the day it was all for nothing anyway, as my psychiatrist immediately increased my dose to 300mg a day, more than I have ever been on, but I was just so obviously not coping and thankfully things have been slightly more bearable since. My blood pressure hasn't been that bad anyway, and Effexor is likely not contributing in a significant way. Anxiety itself, raises blood pressure (funnily enough ha), and my constant stress about it was just making everything worse. Things are stable for now. I am being monitored, my brain simply needs high doses of medication at this stage. I have accepted that and I know that this is what is best for me and my family right now. I was also diagnosed with Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder which made so much sense as far as the exacerbation of my mental struggle in the week leading up to, and the first days of my period. I have been back on the pill for the last two months which has been making things a bit better, but I'm really not a fan of the fake hormones and other side effects the pill can have. It's been another case of weighing up the pros and cons, and the need for some kind of hormonal management at this stage is unavoidable.
There are little changes that would seem like no big deal to most people, that have really shown how far I have come in regards to anxiety and depression over the past year. Simple things like making phone calls to rearrange appointments, driving somewhere that isn't "easy" for me, booking a family trip to Singapore for April, following through with most social commitments - all with very minimal panic and the ability to have perspective, which is truly something I struggle with so much. Yes, the flight to Singapore with a four year old who hates sitting still will be challenging, as will the airport experiences, but, it is around 12 hours total out of our lives to then enjoy a week full of amazing experiences, and we will be OK. I have literally never been able to see things that way before. It's a really big deal.
MOTHERHOOD:
Wow, having a three year old has been... really fun, really hilarious, really rewarding, and also really bloody hard. We have definitely found Isaac's third year more challenging than his second, all those big emotions just bubbling away under the surface and exploding at any given moment, all the ways he can't tell us he struggling and we misinterpret his behaviour, all those times I know he is so overtired and overwhelmed but we have to work, so he has to go to childcare anyway - it's difficult. He is an emotional, sensitive, beautiful little boy, and he brings us more joy than I could possibly put into words. I hate it when I'm impatient with him, when he begs me to lie with him in his bed "for just a moment longer please Mummy", when I am exhausted and need a break - then the minute he is asleep I want to pick him up and snuggle him forever. It's a constant contradiction of emotions, being a Mum. Never have I been more tired, more frustrated, more irritable, and yet so full of gratitude for this little human who trusts and loves me more than anyone else (for now). The privilege of being his Mum is never lost on me, even when I am hanging on to my sanity by a thread. He is the most amazing little boy and the word "love" just isn't enough to convey how I feel about him. I am tearing up as I type this, it's so hard to explain.
This year, I have learned that being a bit adventurous can be the best idea (although my idea of adventurous will be vastly different to most haha). We went "glamping" earlier in the year and we had the best time. Nature, a change of scenery, fresh air, no plans or timelines, no expectations - it was amazing, and Isaac had so much fun. Going away like that for a weekend is something I never would have been able to consider not that long ago, and the risk was 100% worth it. There were definitely moments that were difficult, but I was able to cope and accept that it would pass, and that things were actually OK, regardless of a meltdown from Isaac (or me...) along the way.
I have become mostly content with the fact that Isaac will be our one and only child. I know my limits, I know Reid's limits, and while it's never healthy to let fear hold you back from things you want, I think it's also really important to consider all aspects of a major decision and weigh up the possible negative outcomes. I simply can't go through PND again. My psychiatrist told me it's a 90% certainty that it would happen. I am still not recovered from my original diagnosis and it has been almost four years. I just can't. I totally know things would be different with the knowledge and support I have now, but it wouldn't be fair on Reid, Isaac or my family to take the risk. I am so grateful for Isaac and for the fact that I am able to make the choice either way, it is something I truly don't take for granted. My heart breaks for people who are aching for more children, or for a child at all, I do absolutely know how blessed I am.
FAITH:
I haven't talked about this much here before, but I was raised as a Christian. I went to church for my whole childhood and early adult life. I never questioned my intrinsic faith in God, it has always been part of who I am, even though I have, and still can be, at times, a terrible example of a Christian for sure. When I had Isaac, and became so unwell, I would have to say I almost lost that faith completely. I was so overwhelmed with the fog of depression, I was so terrified of every minute of every day, and I had prayed and prayed and begged and pleaded - I would have done anything to make those feelings go away. If I hadn't gotten into the Mother Baby Unit as soon as I did, I honestly would have been a suicide risk - and I know what a shocking thing that is to say, but there is no other way to convey the seriousness of the situation and just how much I was hurting. I truly wanted to die. I have been on this healing journey ever since, but I was angry with God. Really angry. I started to think about all the horrible things in the world and how He just seems to let it happen. How I know we have "free will" but that doesn't explain why innocent children suffer, why natural disasters destroy lives and communities and how science can explain so much. My heart completely hardened to Christianity in any form. I started to think God didn't exist. I started to feel that there was no point to any of it. I started to see everything in such a negative light, beginning to believe that religion as a whole is corrupt and causes nothing but trouble.
My Mum asked me to go to church with her early this year. Back to Midway Point Christian Fellowship, the church my grandfather started 60 years ago, the church my Dad helped build, the church where so many of my extended family still go, and the church that was our "home base", the church we went to for the first five years of my life before Grandad set up another church and we moved to that one with him. I was super hesitant and said no a few times. I was still too angry. I held my fundraising event for PANDA in that building in November last year, and I went to the churches 60th anniversary celebration because my precious Nan who goes there, was given the honour of cutting the celebratory cake and I wanted to be there to support her. My heart had slowly begun to soften after those two things. Being in that building filled me with a peace that I struggled to explain, and I tried to fight it, but when Mum asked me to go with her just for one service, I knew I couldn't say no to her again. The best way to describe how I feel when I'm there is a word I used before, and that's; peace. It's like a meditative state comes over me and I am enveloped in acceptance and love and surrounded by beautiful, caring people. I slowly started praying again and attending more services. I came to the decision to be baptised which is something I had been wanting to do for a long time, before the doubt and anger set in, and that day was one of the happiest of my life. Peace. So much peace.
There are still things I struggle with. The church is fairly conservative, and as a young woman who believes in things like gender equality, I absolutely want to push back at some of the completely outdated traditions. There is a lot of narrow mindedness around, which is the case in most churches unfortunately, and an absolute inability to see things from other points of view which is frustrating. However, the people there are truly good people. They are loving and kind and welcoming, and believe wholeheartedly that they are doing God's work in the best way they can. There are far more pros to attending this place than there are cons. I still question things, a lot. I still feel conflicted, a lot. But there is that layer of peace that sits on top of it all, that quietens my raging mind and settles my soul. I absolutely can't deny it.
WORK:
So much of our lives are spent at work. My current job is logistically perfect for having a young child. It's close to home and his childcare centre, it's flexible, I can work from home if need be and although I have never met my colleagues in person, I consider a few of them among my closest friends. The work itself, however, is definitely not my soul's purpose. I feel like social media and certain people and companies we can choose to follow online can paint an unrealistic picture of "loving what you do" and "living your true passion" while at the same time making enough money from it to pay your bills and live comfortably. It's unfortunate, but it's not a reality for most of us. There are a lot more people working to pay for bills than there are people who bounce of bed really excited about their chosen career that they have been lucky enough to make a significant living from. I am not trying to sound negative and defeatist here, I absolutely know that these things are possible, and hard work and dedication and actually knowing what you really want to do are huge factors, but what if you don't know? If the things you love aren't exactly options to make enough money to survive? It's the cold, hard truth, but it's also likely. I feel like I won't be doing the job I'm in forever, but it truly is my best option for now. There is so much pressure on us to decide "what we want to do/be" and it is generally intrinsically linked to our career path. I read a sentence in Michelle Obama's book Becoming, (I was flicking through it, it's on my "to read" list) and it really struck a cord with me. This isn't a direct quote, but it was basically her saying that we are constantly evolving, changing, growing - becoming. What is the end goal? Why do we have the pressure to "be" something in particular. I really like thinking of it that way, and while I do see myself having some kind of career change eventually, I am satisfied with where I am at the minute, and the knowledge that I do spend the free time I have doing things I enjoy. I volunteer, I spend time with my family, I focus on learning as much about healthy child development as I can, I maintain friendships the best way I possibly can and I try to prioritise self-care. That's enough for now. In this season, I am "becoming" content with my present.
GRIEF:
Losing Grandma in November was a really big shock, and there has been an almost tangible shift in our family dynamic now that she isn't here. The space that she used to fill is so painfully empty, and the rest of us try to fill it, particularly for my Grandad's sake, although we know it's not possible, and honestly, we wouldn't want it to be. I think about death so much at the minute, as morbid and awful as that sounds. This intense fear constricts my throat when I try to imagine myself existing when those closest to me will not. It's such an unfathomable reality and the immense pain of loss, even the threat of that pain, completely overwhelms me to the point of physical discomfort if I don't concentrate on reeling my mind in. I really miss Grandma. More than I could have imagined I would, and the domino effect of expectant grief regarding anyone who I'm lucky enough to have, particularly my Grandad and my Nan, is crushing. Mothering while grieving was a whole new level of pain for me, and one that I tried so hard to approach in a loving, age-appropriate way, but there is only so much a three year old can understand, and there was only so much I could explain. It is a part of life that I am completely unprepared to face, and I know it's inevitable. In the words of Winnie the Pooh, "how lucky I am, to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard". Grandma, we love you and miss you so very much x.
My Dad has had a few health scares over the last couple of years, and there is the prospect of more to come with some unfavourable test results that came back in December. We won't know more until he has a follow up appointment early next year, but none of us are able to comprehend the possibility of him not being OK. I absolutely believe that even if things aren't right, with treatment, they will be - but in the meantime, the waiting is really hard on us all, especially Dad. Seeing my favourite person in the universe struggle is difficult, and there's nothing any of us can do to make it better.
2020 INTENTIONS:
I'm not one for resolutions. I can't handle the self-imposed pressure and inevitably fail.
I do like to have a think about my intentions for the year ahead though, and the bottom line for me next year is to make as much time as possible for joy. To set better, healthier boundaries. To journal more. To play the piano more. To go to the beach more. To read as much as I can. To keep going to the gym and being grateful for my body and what it does for me every day. To cook more creatively on weekends/when I have the energy. To go on a few little family trips. To enjoy our overseas holiday and have reasonable expectations for potential struggles, but to embrace it all as the wonderful experience it will be. To be more patient. To keep communicating with Reid and loving him as best as I can. To keep learning how to be the best Mum I can for Isaac, because next year (and every year) is so precious with him. To have more slow days at home. To be kind to myself and live my 30th year on this earth with as much intention, thoughtfulness and kindness as I can.
To anyone who has made it to the end of this very lengthy blog post - firstly, well done! And also, I wish you the absolute very best for 2020, whatever it has in store for you. May it be all that you hope for and more x
Big as far as emotional, mental, psychological and philosophical change go, anyway. In other ways it has been quite unremarkable. Lots of work, lots of toddler play, lots of family time, lots of complaining about being too busy, lots of questioning... everything, lots of planning, lots of attempts to remain grounded and calm and lots of feeling every possible emotion as is my general empath outlook on life. Losing Grandma was without a doubt the hardest thing about this year, and trying to get used to the knowledge that she's not here is something I will continue to struggle with, which I'll go into more detail about soon.
There are a few main topics that come to mind when I think about the year in its entirety, so I'm going to have some headings with my thoughts underneath. A somewhat structured approach to my general rambling writing style can't hurt, surely? Haha.
PSYCHOLOGICAL:
I started seeing a new psychologist at the beginning of this year, and by far, she is the best one I've ever had. I have been seeing therapists on and off for ten years, and while they have all been good in their own way, I have finally found someone who I really click with. Who helps me be kinder to myself while also not letting me get away with my own toxic traits, and gently helping me to improve them. I don't like to imagine where I would be mentally, if I hadn't had her support this year. The trauma of Isaac's birth/our subsequent hospital experience is something that we are working on at the minute, and I have a session booked for EMDR Therapy next month, which I am hoping will help me to move forward, because it is absolutely holding me back and one of my biggest goals for the future is to be able to let that part of my experience go. If only it was that easy. I know it is going to be a really difficult experience to go through, but one that I hope will help me be able to hopefully at least go near the hospital where I had Isaac without having a panic attack.
I also saw a psychiatrist again this year, due to changes I was trying to make with my medication. That was a fairly horrible time, trying to reduce my Effexor dosage for the sake of my blood pressure was a really yuck situation, to put it eloquently. I don't know how I kept working and doing everything, when I honestly felt so awful. At the end of the day it was all for nothing anyway, as my psychiatrist immediately increased my dose to 300mg a day, more than I have ever been on, but I was just so obviously not coping and thankfully things have been slightly more bearable since. My blood pressure hasn't been that bad anyway, and Effexor is likely not contributing in a significant way. Anxiety itself, raises blood pressure (funnily enough ha), and my constant stress about it was just making everything worse. Things are stable for now. I am being monitored, my brain simply needs high doses of medication at this stage. I have accepted that and I know that this is what is best for me and my family right now. I was also diagnosed with Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder which made so much sense as far as the exacerbation of my mental struggle in the week leading up to, and the first days of my period. I have been back on the pill for the last two months which has been making things a bit better, but I'm really not a fan of the fake hormones and other side effects the pill can have. It's been another case of weighing up the pros and cons, and the need for some kind of hormonal management at this stage is unavoidable.
There are little changes that would seem like no big deal to most people, that have really shown how far I have come in regards to anxiety and depression over the past year. Simple things like making phone calls to rearrange appointments, driving somewhere that isn't "easy" for me, booking a family trip to Singapore for April, following through with most social commitments - all with very minimal panic and the ability to have perspective, which is truly something I struggle with so much. Yes, the flight to Singapore with a four year old who hates sitting still will be challenging, as will the airport experiences, but, it is around 12 hours total out of our lives to then enjoy a week full of amazing experiences, and we will be OK. I have literally never been able to see things that way before. It's a really big deal.
MOTHERHOOD:
Wow, having a three year old has been... really fun, really hilarious, really rewarding, and also really bloody hard. We have definitely found Isaac's third year more challenging than his second, all those big emotions just bubbling away under the surface and exploding at any given moment, all the ways he can't tell us he struggling and we misinterpret his behaviour, all those times I know he is so overtired and overwhelmed but we have to work, so he has to go to childcare anyway - it's difficult. He is an emotional, sensitive, beautiful little boy, and he brings us more joy than I could possibly put into words. I hate it when I'm impatient with him, when he begs me to lie with him in his bed "for just a moment longer please Mummy", when I am exhausted and need a break - then the minute he is asleep I want to pick him up and snuggle him forever. It's a constant contradiction of emotions, being a Mum. Never have I been more tired, more frustrated, more irritable, and yet so full of gratitude for this little human who trusts and loves me more than anyone else (for now). The privilege of being his Mum is never lost on me, even when I am hanging on to my sanity by a thread. He is the most amazing little boy and the word "love" just isn't enough to convey how I feel about him. I am tearing up as I type this, it's so hard to explain.
This year, I have learned that being a bit adventurous can be the best idea (although my idea of adventurous will be vastly different to most haha). We went "glamping" earlier in the year and we had the best time. Nature, a change of scenery, fresh air, no plans or timelines, no expectations - it was amazing, and Isaac had so much fun. Going away like that for a weekend is something I never would have been able to consider not that long ago, and the risk was 100% worth it. There were definitely moments that were difficult, but I was able to cope and accept that it would pass, and that things were actually OK, regardless of a meltdown from Isaac (or me...) along the way.
I have become mostly content with the fact that Isaac will be our one and only child. I know my limits, I know Reid's limits, and while it's never healthy to let fear hold you back from things you want, I think it's also really important to consider all aspects of a major decision and weigh up the possible negative outcomes. I simply can't go through PND again. My psychiatrist told me it's a 90% certainty that it would happen. I am still not recovered from my original diagnosis and it has been almost four years. I just can't. I totally know things would be different with the knowledge and support I have now, but it wouldn't be fair on Reid, Isaac or my family to take the risk. I am so grateful for Isaac and for the fact that I am able to make the choice either way, it is something I truly don't take for granted. My heart breaks for people who are aching for more children, or for a child at all, I do absolutely know how blessed I am.
FAITH:
I haven't talked about this much here before, but I was raised as a Christian. I went to church for my whole childhood and early adult life. I never questioned my intrinsic faith in God, it has always been part of who I am, even though I have, and still can be, at times, a terrible example of a Christian for sure. When I had Isaac, and became so unwell, I would have to say I almost lost that faith completely. I was so overwhelmed with the fog of depression, I was so terrified of every minute of every day, and I had prayed and prayed and begged and pleaded - I would have done anything to make those feelings go away. If I hadn't gotten into the Mother Baby Unit as soon as I did, I honestly would have been a suicide risk - and I know what a shocking thing that is to say, but there is no other way to convey the seriousness of the situation and just how much I was hurting. I truly wanted to die. I have been on this healing journey ever since, but I was angry with God. Really angry. I started to think about all the horrible things in the world and how He just seems to let it happen. How I know we have "free will" but that doesn't explain why innocent children suffer, why natural disasters destroy lives and communities and how science can explain so much. My heart completely hardened to Christianity in any form. I started to think God didn't exist. I started to feel that there was no point to any of it. I started to see everything in such a negative light, beginning to believe that religion as a whole is corrupt and causes nothing but trouble.
My Mum asked me to go to church with her early this year. Back to Midway Point Christian Fellowship, the church my grandfather started 60 years ago, the church my Dad helped build, the church where so many of my extended family still go, and the church that was our "home base", the church we went to for the first five years of my life before Grandad set up another church and we moved to that one with him. I was super hesitant and said no a few times. I was still too angry. I held my fundraising event for PANDA in that building in November last year, and I went to the churches 60th anniversary celebration because my precious Nan who goes there, was given the honour of cutting the celebratory cake and I wanted to be there to support her. My heart had slowly begun to soften after those two things. Being in that building filled me with a peace that I struggled to explain, and I tried to fight it, but when Mum asked me to go with her just for one service, I knew I couldn't say no to her again. The best way to describe how I feel when I'm there is a word I used before, and that's; peace. It's like a meditative state comes over me and I am enveloped in acceptance and love and surrounded by beautiful, caring people. I slowly started praying again and attending more services. I came to the decision to be baptised which is something I had been wanting to do for a long time, before the doubt and anger set in, and that day was one of the happiest of my life. Peace. So much peace.
There are still things I struggle with. The church is fairly conservative, and as a young woman who believes in things like gender equality, I absolutely want to push back at some of the completely outdated traditions. There is a lot of narrow mindedness around, which is the case in most churches unfortunately, and an absolute inability to see things from other points of view which is frustrating. However, the people there are truly good people. They are loving and kind and welcoming, and believe wholeheartedly that they are doing God's work in the best way they can. There are far more pros to attending this place than there are cons. I still question things, a lot. I still feel conflicted, a lot. But there is that layer of peace that sits on top of it all, that quietens my raging mind and settles my soul. I absolutely can't deny it.
WORK:
So much of our lives are spent at work. My current job is logistically perfect for having a young child. It's close to home and his childcare centre, it's flexible, I can work from home if need be and although I have never met my colleagues in person, I consider a few of them among my closest friends. The work itself, however, is definitely not my soul's purpose. I feel like social media and certain people and companies we can choose to follow online can paint an unrealistic picture of "loving what you do" and "living your true passion" while at the same time making enough money from it to pay your bills and live comfortably. It's unfortunate, but it's not a reality for most of us. There are a lot more people working to pay for bills than there are people who bounce of bed really excited about their chosen career that they have been lucky enough to make a significant living from. I am not trying to sound negative and defeatist here, I absolutely know that these things are possible, and hard work and dedication and actually knowing what you really want to do are huge factors, but what if you don't know? If the things you love aren't exactly options to make enough money to survive? It's the cold, hard truth, but it's also likely. I feel like I won't be doing the job I'm in forever, but it truly is my best option for now. There is so much pressure on us to decide "what we want to do/be" and it is generally intrinsically linked to our career path. I read a sentence in Michelle Obama's book Becoming, (I was flicking through it, it's on my "to read" list) and it really struck a cord with me. This isn't a direct quote, but it was basically her saying that we are constantly evolving, changing, growing - becoming. What is the end goal? Why do we have the pressure to "be" something in particular. I really like thinking of it that way, and while I do see myself having some kind of career change eventually, I am satisfied with where I am at the minute, and the knowledge that I do spend the free time I have doing things I enjoy. I volunteer, I spend time with my family, I focus on learning as much about healthy child development as I can, I maintain friendships the best way I possibly can and I try to prioritise self-care. That's enough for now. In this season, I am "becoming" content with my present.
GRIEF:
Losing Grandma in November was a really big shock, and there has been an almost tangible shift in our family dynamic now that she isn't here. The space that she used to fill is so painfully empty, and the rest of us try to fill it, particularly for my Grandad's sake, although we know it's not possible, and honestly, we wouldn't want it to be. I think about death so much at the minute, as morbid and awful as that sounds. This intense fear constricts my throat when I try to imagine myself existing when those closest to me will not. It's such an unfathomable reality and the immense pain of loss, even the threat of that pain, completely overwhelms me to the point of physical discomfort if I don't concentrate on reeling my mind in. I really miss Grandma. More than I could have imagined I would, and the domino effect of expectant grief regarding anyone who I'm lucky enough to have, particularly my Grandad and my Nan, is crushing. Mothering while grieving was a whole new level of pain for me, and one that I tried so hard to approach in a loving, age-appropriate way, but there is only so much a three year old can understand, and there was only so much I could explain. It is a part of life that I am completely unprepared to face, and I know it's inevitable. In the words of Winnie the Pooh, "how lucky I am, to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard". Grandma, we love you and miss you so very much x.
My Dad has had a few health scares over the last couple of years, and there is the prospect of more to come with some unfavourable test results that came back in December. We won't know more until he has a follow up appointment early next year, but none of us are able to comprehend the possibility of him not being OK. I absolutely believe that even if things aren't right, with treatment, they will be - but in the meantime, the waiting is really hard on us all, especially Dad. Seeing my favourite person in the universe struggle is difficult, and there's nothing any of us can do to make it better.
2020 INTENTIONS:
I'm not one for resolutions. I can't handle the self-imposed pressure and inevitably fail.
I do like to have a think about my intentions for the year ahead though, and the bottom line for me next year is to make as much time as possible for joy. To set better, healthier boundaries. To journal more. To play the piano more. To go to the beach more. To read as much as I can. To keep going to the gym and being grateful for my body and what it does for me every day. To cook more creatively on weekends/when I have the energy. To go on a few little family trips. To enjoy our overseas holiday and have reasonable expectations for potential struggles, but to embrace it all as the wonderful experience it will be. To be more patient. To keep communicating with Reid and loving him as best as I can. To keep learning how to be the best Mum I can for Isaac, because next year (and every year) is so precious with him. To have more slow days at home. To be kind to myself and live my 30th year on this earth with as much intention, thoughtfulness and kindness as I can.
To anyone who has made it to the end of this very lengthy blog post - firstly, well done! And also, I wish you the absolute very best for 2020, whatever it has in store for you. May it be all that you hope for and more x
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